


Som Man Reder Saa Ligger Man

by krysnel_nicavis



Series: Mistake Series [3]
Category: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Genre: Angst, Family, M/M, Mpreg, Regret, Wordcount: 500-1.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-02-15
Updated: 2008-02-15
Packaged: 2017-10-21 23:00:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/230806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/krysnel_nicavis/pseuds/krysnel_nicavis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One must lie in the bed one has made...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Som Man Reder Saa Ligger Man

**Author's Note:**

> Story contains MPreg – fic is too short to explain why it is possible. First chapters of my fics “My Generation” and “Unnatural” should give you some ideas of how I think it could be; Title is from a quote I found on CSI Wiki.

Even with how common it is, it never crossed my mind.  Judging by how he reacted, he hadn’t thought of it either.  He’d been sick for over two months but couldn’t figure out the cause of it.  He’d scheduled a doctor’s appointment one afternoon and after had called in sick.  I’d come in a few hours early to get a couple reports done and remember Grissom saying he’d sounded upset.  I’d headed right over to his apartment to see what was wrong.

I knocked on the door and waited.  No one answered.  I pulled out my keys and found the one that would open the door.  It pulled at my heart to find him sobbing on his couch.  Wordlessly I went to his side and wrapped my arms around him, letting him cry into my shoulder.  When he’d calmed down I asked him what was wrong.  He’d pulled away from me and retrieved a small scroll of paper from his jacket.  I was confused when he handed it to me, not meeting my gaze.  I began to unroll it and my brow furrowed when I read his name at the top.  I unrolled it further and it felt like my heart dropped into my stomach.  It was an ultrasound image.  The clearly defined features left nothing to the imagination about what this was.  I open my mouth to ask how this happened but stop as my mind flashes back three months to that night neither of us was supposed to remember.  I take a deep breath as reality sinks in and for a moment I am lost and don’t know what to do.  My next actions still haunt my every step.

Wordlessly I stood, dropping the sonogram onto the coffee table before the spare apartment key from my key ring clanks next to it.  I turned on my heel and walked out the door.  I am back at the lab before I know it.  I go straight to Grissom and request a shift transfer form.  He’s confused but I offer no explanation as he locates the form.  I have it submitted before shift starts.  All I could think was ‘how could he do this to me?’ and ‘he knows how I feel about this’.

I know I’ve always been thick headed but it’s never turned my life upside down like this before.  Not even eight years ago with the incident surrounding Kristy Hopkins’ death.

It was almost six months later that I heard through the grapevine (also known as Catherine) that Sara was back in town for a while.  She was on a leave of absence and is here to support Greg, with his due date fast approaching.  I felt a pang in the pit of my stomach when that crossed my mind.  But, alas, I was still thick-headedly stubborn.  I’d heard before then from Warrick that shortly after my shift transfer Greg had transferred back to the lab, basically switching positions with Wendy Simms, the DNA Tech turned field agent.

-*&*-

It’s been a few months over five years since I made what I now dub The Mistake.  I’m married to a Carrier.  Unlike Greg, Eric had known he was a Carrier before we got together.  Funny thing about Eric is that he looks so much like Greg they could almost be twins.  No one else has seemed to notice this, and if they do they never say.  We’ve been married for about nine months now – he got pregnant on the honeymoon.  I’m sitting in a chair next to my husband’s hospital bed watching as he cradles our son in his arms.  I smile at the sight and my heart cries.  _‘That could be him’_ my mind says and I quash the voice the best I can.

Eric is tired and I take our son into my own arms.  I tell him I’ll be in the waiting room at the end of the hall for a bit to give him some rest.  He smiles tiredly and lies down to sleep.  I stand staring out the waiting room window.  It’s late and it’s dark and the rain is falling.  I look down to the child in my arms and smile sadly.  I catch sight of the name tag attached to his ankle.  Riston Sandros Stokes.  For a few moments I let myself fantasize that it is five years ago.  Grissom is still the head of the graveyard shift.  Sara doesn’t hate me.  Catherine isn’t Assistant Lab Director.  Warrick isn’t nightshift supervisor.   _I’m_ not dayshift supervisor – a position I’d acquired three weeks ago.  Greg never went back to the lab. The child in my arms is the child _he_ had, and the man that I married is the one that I left.

I sigh and shake my head.  I’ve made my bed.  Now I must lie in it.  A small tear trails down my cheek and I stare out into the darkened Vegas landscape.

“I’m sorry, Greg…”

\- 30 -


End file.
